


Disloyalty

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Character Study, Gen, Hatred, Umbitch - Freeform, respect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 13:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20082607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: A look into McGonagall’s thoughts on Umbridge and how vile and cruel she is. Based on the OotP movie. Angst. Sort of a character study. One-Shot.





	Disloyalty

**Author's Note:**

> McGonagall is a badass and I love her, so when I saw the opportunity to write about her, I took it. I am currently watching the OotP movie, that’s why it’s based on the events in there rather than the book. Please leave a review if you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters used in this story, all recognizable names, locations, and characters are property of the wonderful JK Rowling, who was lovely enough to bless us with the Harry Potter books to become obsessed with as I have.

……….

Disloyalty

……….

McGonagall was a _very _tolerant woman. Being a professor, and someone who works under Albus Dumbledore, she has to be. She has to be able to deal with bothersome teenagers at all hours, along with being Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and grading the thousand papers that were always piled up on her desk.

Needless to say, she had a lot patience.

McGonagall was also very open-minded and understanding, which meant that she could usually find _something _about another person that made them seem at least mildly decent, someone she can tolerate.

She hadn’t liked Professor Quirrell, but at least he was quiet, and watchful, and paid attention and followed the rules. He also understood his subject matter, even if it scared him to death. Well, he hadn’t really been scared, he had been evil. But that was beside the point.

She hadn’t liked Professor Lockhart, but at least he was enthusiastic.

But, for the life of her, McGonagall did _not _like Dolores Umbridge. She simply refused to call the toad-like woman “professor” unless she was in front of students. She didn’t see how that woman deserved the title – or anybody’s respect.

McGonagall felt nothing but dislike and contempt for the pink-clad woman as soon as she set eyes on her. She could hardly stop herself from giving an uninterested, apathetic sniff as Umbridge sat back down after her little speech at the Feast on the first day of term.

So, when McGonagall heard that the toad had forced Harry Potter to use a blood quill in detention as punishment for saying that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back… she was beyond furious.

Hermione Granger had informed her, and she had to quickly excuse the brilliant girl before she lost her temper. Her hands started to shake and she slammed them down into her desk to control them, teeth bared in a snarl.

What she wanted to do, right then, was storm into Umbridge’s office and bash her face into the pink, kitten-covered walls. But she knew better than to give into her anger. She would not be so well-respected if she punched every person that made her angry.

So, McGonagall forced herself to take deep breaths, sitting down in the chair behind her desk so she would go storming off. Once she felt like she had calmed down to a simmering rage, rather than a boiling fury, she stalked out of her office and went after the Minister’s puppet, finding her just outside the Great Hall.

And then she was telling Umbridge off, hardly containing her voice to a low snap, rather than a scream, and students were starting to flock.

“Pardon me, Professor, but what exactly are you insinuating?” Umbridge had squeaked, stepping higher on the steps to seem taller.

“I am merely requesting that, when it comes to my students, you conform to the prescribed disciplinary practices.” McGonagall found she was having a hard time controlling her anger. She fisted her hands by her sides, digging her fingernails into her palms, willing herself to relax.

“So silly of me, but it sounds as if you’re questioning my authority in my own classroom, Minerva.” Umbridge said her name with spite in every syllable, which made McGonagall almost quake with rage. Umbridge stepped up onto the next step so she was slightly higher than her.

“Not at all, Dolores.” McGonagall spat out, stepping up onto the same step as Umbridge, and spitting out her name with the same amount of contempt, if not more. “Merely your medieval methods.” She felt her voice crack slightly, her sorrow for all that Harry had gone through in his short life breaking through her rage.

When he was one, Harry had both of his parents killed in front of him, and a scar carved into his forehead by the darkest wizard in history. Then, he was dumped onto the doorstep of a couple of muggle, there was no other words for it, _arseholes, _and forced to compete with their idiotic son who, apparently, had the world revolving around him.

And then he finally got to escape that dreadful house, just to fight off the Dark Lord, who was attached to his teacher, when he was eleven, fight a basilisk and the Dark Lord when he was twelve, fight off a hundred dementors and almost get killed by a werewolf when he was thirteen, and compete in the Triwizard Tournament, watch Cedric Diggory get killed, and watch Voldemort come back from the dead when he was fourteen.

And now, that sweet, innocent boy, at fifteen years old, had the weight of the world on his shoulders, trying to save the world from someone that nobody believed was back. He had to watch out for Voldemort, the Death Eaters, _and _the Ministry, because the Minister was such a bloody coward that he refused to believe Harry about what had happened.

And he had to fight against this horrible, hateful woman, simply because he was trying to tell the truth.

McGonagall felt her heart break for Harry right there on the steps in front of the Great Hall.

And then Umbridge was talking again, and she felt her fury rise up from her stomach and burn in her chest as she looked at that vile, cruel Ministry worker.

“I’m sorry, dear, but to question my practices is to question the Ministry. And, by extension, the Minister himself.” Umbridge paused, and McGonagall had to fight back a snarl. “I am a tolerant woman, but the one thing I will not stand for is disloyalty.” She finished.

McGonagall stepped down one step, staring at Umbridge in disbelief. “Disloyalty.” She muttered.

Did this woman really want to speak about disloyalty? The Ministry used Harry as a poster boy for _years, _using him to rally the wizarding community and overcome Voldemort’s reign.

They had used Dumbledore as a symbol of wisdom, used his intelligence to write laws and hold trials.

And now, because they were fearful of what was to come, they had turned on the pair of them, like a lion on a gazelle. They had ripped apart everything that Harry and Dumbledore had ever done for them, simply because they didn’t want to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back.

How _dare _this evil bitch talk about disloyalty, when the Ministry was the most disloyal, unfaithful institution that had ever existed?

And then Umbridge was talking once again, saying “Things at Hogwarts are far worse than I feared. Cornelius will want to take immediate action.”

And McGonagall was walking away, back to her office to restrain herself. She felt torn between hugging Harry to her chest and not letting go for several years or punching Umbridge in the face until it no longer resembled a toad. Or a human, for that matter.

Obviously, she did neither. She walked into her office, locked the door, and sat behind her desk, head in her hands. She could survive this year, she could. She just hoped, for Harry’s sake, that Umbridge’s reign at Hogwarts didn’t last much longer.

……….

McGonagall, once again, felt like beating Umbridge with a broomstick. Possibly strapping her to one and sending it zipping into a field of cacti.

The evil toad was making herself another foothold in the school that McGonagall held dear, firing a teacher to make it known that she meant business.

As she watched from the sidelines, McGonagall felt her heart break for Professor Trelawney. If she was honest with herself, she had never thought very highly of Trelawney, mostly because she thought Divination was a ridiculous subject. However, she hated Umbridge even more, and she didn’t think an innocent teacher deserved to be sacked because Umbridge thought she was queen of the hill.

“Six-sixteen years, I’ve lived and taught here. Hogwarts is my home. Y-you can’t do this…” Trelawney stuttered, shaking out in the open with hundreds of eyes on her.

“Actually,” Umbridge held up her sighed order of termination, or whatever the hell it was, and McGonagall felt helpless to do anything. “I can.”

And then McGonagall felt like she _had _to do something, even if it was something as simple as comforting the shaking professor. So, she jogged out into the courtyard and wrapped her arms around Trelawney’s shoulders, giving Umbridge her best glare.

“Something you’d like to say, dear?” Umbridge twittered, making McGonagall’s stomach roll at how _revolting_ that woman was.

“Oh, there are several things I would like to say.” McGonagall snapped, turning to Trelawney and trying to calm her down. McGonagall was willing to physically assault Umbridge if it meant she would never do something like this again. Especially in front of all the students.

And then the castle doors banged open, and Dumbledore, like the badass he was, strode out into the courtyard, a determined, hard-edged look etched onto his face.

“Professor McGonagall, might I ask you to escort Sybill back inside?” he thundered, and McGonagall wouldn’t have said no if he asked her to do something that she _didn’t _want to do, he looked that dangerous.

Not that Dumbledore would ever cause her harm or anything, he would never do something like that. But he looked so threatening, strolling out into the courtyard like he was going to smite Umbridge, that McGonagall was a tiny bit scared. Not that she would ever admit that.

So, _of course _McGonagall started to move Trelawney toward the doors, muttering soothing word under her breath.

And then Trelawney was reaching for Dumbledore’s hand, thanking him endlessly, and McGonagall felt her heart break. Because how could someone sack this innocent, kind woman, who wanted nothing more than live in her tower and teach students about Divination (even if she didn’t do it very well)? How could a human being want to cause someone to suffer and break down in front of an audience of hundreds of their students?”

And then Umbridge started talking again, and McGonagall wanted to rip the toad’s head off with her bare hands. “Dumbledore, may I remind you that, under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three, as enacted by the Minister – ”

And then Dumbledore cut her off, which would have made McGonagall smile if she wasn’t holding a crying, heartbroken Professor Trelawney in her arms and trying to get her back in the castle.

“You have the right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the right to banish them from the grounds. That power remains with the Headmaster.” Dumbledore voice boomed across the whole courtyard, making McGonagall grin, because _Merlin’s beard, she was so thankful for that man. If he wasn’t a part of Hogwarts, would she even want to teach there anymore?_

“For now.” McGonagall’s blood ran cold when she heard Umbridge say that. She felt like hurtling the students between her and that evil bitch and strangling her until she was blue in the face. She felt like hitting her until her nose was broken and her eyes were ringed in bruises, until she was curled up on the floor begging for mercy.

McGonagall had never felt rage like this toward anyone, _ever, _but she would give anything to be able to assault Umbridge.

But of course she didn’t. She would never risk the respect she holds, her job, or he freedom for something like that. She would have risked getting sacked if that was what it took to stop Umbridge from using a blood quill in detentions, because at least then she would be protecting her students. But a personal vengeance? Never.

So McGonagall led Trelawney back inside, missing the way that Dumbledore strode back out of the courtyard in defeat. Because, if she had seen it, she would have spoken up. Dumbledore was the best thing that had ever happened to Hogwarts, and if defending him meant losing her job…

But she didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything, as she led Trelawney into the castle and up the many stairs to her tower. She didn’t say anything as she settled the former professor into her armchair, made her some tea, before disappearing back into her office.

And then she cried, because she could no longer contain the emotions that were spilling out of her. This _evil _woman was hurting her students, her colleagues, her friends. She was strutting through the castle like she was queen of the world, leaving disaster in her wake.

She was physically harming students, sacking innocent teachers, damaging Dumbledore’s reputation. She was ruining the school, forming it into a mini Ministry; taking the photos off the walls, creating new rules so it was practically a military camp.

McGonagall sat and cried for everything that was, before Umbridge came. Everything that would come, when Voldemort revealed himself and starting a new reign, one that would kill even more people than the one before. She cried for Harry, and the battle he would have to wage, in the end, against the most feared dark wizard that had ever lived.

McGonagall sat at her desk and cried until she couldn’t anymore, until all the tears and rage had dried up and left her numb. And then she stood, wiped her face, and walked into the Great Hall for dinner.

Because Umbridge may be able to destroy Harry, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and everything else that McGonagall held dear.

But she could never stop McGonagall from teaching the young minds that looked up to her, from protecting them against the horrors of the outside world, against Umbridge. She could never stop McGonagall from doing what she loved most: her job.


End file.
